The Easter Egg Hunt
by patsan
Summary: At the annual Downton Easter Egg Hunt in 1922 Mary wishes her husband could be there with her. Fluff alert!


Is it too late for an Easter themed ficlet? I surely hope not!

Enjoy this little silliness, and if the beginning or the summary have you worried, just trust me :)

Happy belated Easter to all of you who celebrate, my dear MM shippers, and to all of you that don't, I hope your weekend was a good one.

Let's begin the new week with some well deserved fluff ;)

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**The Easter Egg Hunt**

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"Isn't it just marvellous?" Edith exclaimed.

"I suppose it is," Mary conceded, but then smiled slightly as she looked around, tilting her head to one side.

It was a lovely day, warm and without a cloud in the sky, and a gentle breeze was whispering through the leaves of the ancient trees of Downton.

It seemed like Spring had finally arrived and the grounds were blossoming with it, the colours brighter, the scents more intense, a sparkle of life and joy and expectation filling the air.

Joyful were also the squeals and shouts of the many children wandering around the lawn, baskets hanging from their arms, as they ran and stopped, pointed and knelt down to grab the painted eggs lying here and there, skilfully hidden behind a rock, concealed against a trunk, carefully put where the grass grew higher.

A few adults were helping the youngest kids with their baskets, holding them as the children looked for their prizes.

Most of the men and women who had come up from the village stood around the perimeters of the hunting area or were walking around it, keeping an eye on their daughters and sons, chatting amiably with some neighbour, friend, acquaintance, enjoying the festive atmosphere of the Downton Annual Egg Hunt.

Mary's smile turned wistful as she recalled Matthew's eagerness last year to share such a tradition with his child one day soon.

They'd had been observing a very similar view, seated side by side under a wide white tent with part of the family.

He'd spoken softly, so that only she could hear, and Mary had felt her heart flutter in her chest as he expressed his simple desire, her hand lying protectively over her stomach, over the precious gift growing inside of her.

She'd never been sure of wanting to be a mother, the concept too linked to those of duty and tradition to awaken anything other in her mind, but things had changed after she'd married, Matthew's desire to start a family making something inside her soften (_"It might have something to do with me being an only child"_, he'd confessed quietly one night, holding her to him in the silence of their bedroom), and for the first time the need to produce an heir had represented something more than just preserving the Crawley's line.

She sighed now, wishing Matthew could be there to see and enjoy this as she was, but it was no use pondering over something that couldn't be changed, so she shook herself, and forced a small smile upon her face.

The smile became genuine, however, when her eyes came to rest onto two familiar figures on the other side of the lawn.

They were standing near one of the oldest cedar trees.

Tom was crutching down, talking to Sybbie with half a smile upon his face as the little girl nodded, then hugged him as he got back to his feet with her and resumed walking slowly through the hunting area.

The little girl indicated something on the ground only a few steps later, and Tom let her down again, as she fell to her knees and retrieved what was likely another hidden egg.

Mary grinned at the sight, whishing again that her husband could be there with her, but then her son's joyful cries reached her ears, and she turned her head toward him, every pensiveness instantly melting away from her mind.

She waited till the nanny came closer, and only when she was a few feet away Mary opened her arms and reached up just as George reached down leaning over the older woman's arms.

She took her son in her arms eagerly, and she hugged him for a moment before pulling him back, resting him on her legs and bouncing him lightly on them as he looked at her, a little happy sound leaving his puckered lips.

"Good afternoon, my darling," she said.

"He just woke up from his nap," the nanny informed her, "and I thought he would like to join his beautiful Mama outside."

"Quite right, nanny, thank you," Mary agreed, and then nodded, dismissing the woman who curtsied and left.

Mary turned her attention back on her son as Edith beside her cooed down at him adoringly, much to the boy's delight.

He began wiggling in Mary's arms and pointing out to Edith with his chubby hand.

Her sister took it between her fingers, making some other nonsensical noise that had George giggling once again.

"He's such a happy boy," Edith commented, and Mary smiled proudly.

He truly was.

There was joy in his every smile, and such an energy within him.

He'd had no trouble charming the entire family and most of the household as well, especially Carson who doted on the child at every possible occasion.

Mary lifted the boy in her arms, resting his body against her chest and shoulder, and he touched her face with her hand, patting her cheek lightly, as he was giving her permission to lift him, which made Edith laugh in amusement.

"I think we're taking a walk," Mary said to Edith as she rose to her feet, and then, talking to her son, "we'll go and see how Uncle Tom and Sybbie are doing. What do you think, darling?"

She nodded to Edith, and walked out of the tent and toward the pair.

George first squinted his eyes against the sun, then looked curiously at the other children wandering around the lawn, a soft sound leaving his lips, almost like a question.

"They're looking for the hidden eggs," Mary explained softly, even if she knew he couldn't understand, but he stayed quiet in her arms as he seemed to consider with great attention what she'd said.

She watched him with half a smile curving her lips, enthralled, as always, by his every reaction to the world around him.

He wiggled a little then, seemingly deciding he liked what was going on, reaching his arms out to where the other children were running, sitting, screaming in their quest.

Mary held him more securely, balancing him carefully over her side as she walked.

"He seems pretty anxious to join the others," Tom remarked when they reached him and Sybbie.

"I'm afraid he took the competitive side from me," she joked as she finally crutched on the ground with George.

She let him go and he crawled up to Sybbie and her half filled basket, reaching inside it.

He had some difficulties with the basket side, however, and so the girl frowned, then leaned down and picked up an egg for him.

George babbled happily, taking it with both his hands, and promptly went to put it in his mouth, but Mary was faster, pretty knowledgeable by now about her son's habit of putting whatever he found on his way in his mouth.

Tom laughed beside her, while Mary took George back in her arms, holding him away from the egg as he fretted against her.

She offered the coloured egg back to Sybbie with a fond smile.

"Here, darling, put it with the others. I'm afraid your cousin is too young to play with it."

The girl looked up at her with wide eyes, then gently took the small egg between her palms at a nod from her father, and then smiled shyly at Mary, doing as she'd said.

George kept squirming against his mother, growing more agitated, and Mary stood, bouncing him up and down to calm him, shushing him softly, pressing a kiss to his temple.

He leaned back, her hand on his back keeping him steady, and he looked up to her with a frown, like he was unsure of what course of action to choose.

Mary smiled, and then kissed his nose with a soft smack, and suddenly the agitation seemed to leave the boy because he kept pouting for only a moment and then gifted her with a little smile.

"Good boy," she said, but before she could add anything more the boy squealed in delight, and wiggled energetically in her arms, and Mary turned, curious to see what had attracted his attention.

What she saw made her smile with the same happiness that so evidently had taken hold of her son, for Matthew was strolling towards them, his steps resolved, a beautiful, beautiful smile lightening up his face.

"I thought I wouldn't see you until tomorrow," Mary said when he was within earshot.

He walked up to her and kissed her cheek and George reached out for him.

She passed the boy to him then, and Matthew twirled him around and in the air as George giggled, eyes sparkling with glee.

"How are you, little chap?" Matthew asked once he rested his son securely over his chest, and the boy wiggled closer to him, mumbling contentedly against his shoulder.

"He seems quite happy to see you," Mary said, and Matthew looked at her, a proud smile on his lips.

He came closer, leaning over and pressing his lips to hers in a sweet caress as her hand rested lightly on his side.

She closed her eyes briefly, barely aware that they weren't alone, enjoying his kiss, and when she opened them again she found him looking back at her tenderly.

Mary sighed softly.

How she'd missed him.

"I was able to wrap things up a little earlier," he explained, "so I took the first train back home. I'm arriving just now from the train station."

He pulled back and only then Mary noticed that his clothes were a little wriggled.

She nodded.

"You did well. It would have been a shame to miss George's first Egg Hunt, even though he's still too young to play," she said.

"And who says that?" he asked.

"Well..." she began, then stopped when she saw Matthew and Tom exchanging a knowing look.

"Sybbie still has to fill her basket, so we are going to help her do just that. What do you say, dear?" he asked smiling at the little girl, who stood up suddenly, vigorously nodding in his direction.

"Da!" she said then, nudging Tom to his feet eagerly.

"Alright, alright," Tom said grinning as he rose, taking the basket in one hand, holding his daughter's fingers in the other.

"Let's go then. George?" Matthew asked his son, bouncing him a little up and down, which made him grin and shriek with enthusiasm.

Mary smiled, and followed the small group as they began walking through the lawn, stepping right into the hunting area.

"'ere!" Sybbie exclaimed after a few steps, and Matthew made a scene of hurrying to the spot she'd indicated, crutching down while he held George against his chest.

He leaned to retrieve the painted egg, and pretended to be too clumsy to catch it, bumping his fingers against it and making it roll over the grass.

"Oh, no!" Tom said, and he and Sybbie hurried toward the egg, waiting for Matthew and George to catch up.

Again Matthew knelt down, and again he missed, eliciting an half amused, half frustrated cry from Sybbie, while George flailed excitedly in his father's arms.

After a few other failed attempts, Mary stepped in, leaning down and gracefully retrieving the egg.

A little applause from the small crowd rewarded her for her ability, and she laughed gently in the warm air, her shoulders shaking with mirth.

She then offered the egg to her niece, who put it carefully into her basket with the others.

"See, darling?" Matthew said quietly as they resumed their hunt. "There's no such thing as being too young to play."

"Or too old, apparently," Mary replied, wriggling her eyebrows at him.

He chuckled, just as George started fidgeting again, for it looked like Sybbie had found another egg, and it surely would take some effort to catch it.

"Or too old," Matthew conceded with a lopsided grin, then gestured to where their niece and Tom stood. "Shall we?"

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**The End**

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_And there we are. _

_As always I'd love to hear your thoughts on this :)_


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